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(WELCOME TO) CONNECTICUT BLUES
Everywhere I go I see a graveyard
Everywhere I go I see a graveyard
The stones are pretty old,
but life is not that hard.
There’s a prison on Society Road
There’s a prison on Society Road
When they’ve been there for a while
the criminals implode.
I drove on by Witch Meadow Road
I drove on by Witch Meadow Road
It’s dark out there
and I was feeling some forebode.
Devil’s Hopyard is a natural place
Devil’s Hopyard is a natural place
It’s got a waterfall
like you can’t find in outer space.
There’s a theater, they call it Goodspeed
There’s a theater, they call it Goodspeed
Some drama in the country
just what I need.
There was an overdose in a lovely neighborhood
There was an overdose in a lovely neighborhood
People even want to die
when they’ve got it good.
(repeat first verse)
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2. |
Stand By Your Truck
03:13
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STAND BY YOUR TRUCK
I saw a beat-up pickup truck,
it hadn’t any doors,
I think that makes it easier
for picking up a whore.
But everyone can see what you are
doing with your gear shift,
a woman working the transmission
if you get my drift.
The truck for sale, I bought it, and
I’m feeling truculent,
I met a woman who reminds me
of a succulent.
I took her for a ride and showed her
I could take the curves
without my even looking and
she said, “You’ve got some nerve.”
I CALL MY VEHICLE OLD PAINT,
IF YOU SAW IT YOU WOULD FAINT,
I’M A SINNER, NOT A SAINT,
BUT IT BRINGS ME LUCK – STAND BY YOUR TRUCK
I know it sounds mechanical
a man and his machine,
but every pickup has a bed,
you know what I mean?
The truck is used, it was abused,
it doesn’t have reverse,
although It could be worse, I could be
riding in a hearse.
It isn’t something I rehearse,
I’d rather have a horse,
the world is driving me off course
and people are a curse.
With no reverse it means that I don’t
have a backup plan,
I’m kind of forward but some women
like that in a man.
I CALL MY VEHICLE OLD PAINT,
IF YOU SAW IT YOU WOULD FAINT,
I’M A SINNER, NOT A SAINT,
BUT IT BRINGS ME LUCK – STAND BY YOUR TRUCK
I’m not an introvert because
I like internal combustion,
the highway is for extroverts
and some are getting busted
I’m stricken by the news, so I am
truckin’ by the views,
the motor is exhausted and
a man is born to lose.
A pickup truck, I like to call it
a patrol torpedo
cause it’s straight ahead and it is
good for my libido.
With a pretty woman in it
I am hauling ass
and calling for an hallelujah
on the overpass.
I CALL MY VEHICLE OLD PAINT,
IF YOU SAW IT YOU WOULD FAINT,
I’M A SINNER, NOT A SAINT,
BUT IT BRINGS ME LUCK – STAND BY YOUR TRUCK
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3. |
Exile
04:42
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EXILE
When I was born it was a shock
a little after 10 o’clock
in the morning, it was not so bad
but the place was kind of sad
a military hospital
the army hard when you are little
and you don’t know what is what
an army doctor slapped my butt
it is hard to put into words
but ever since I have preferred
a woman to the military
being born is pretty scary
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS EXILE-RATED
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS SO ILL-FATED
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS CARBONATED
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS COMPLICATED
Then there is the lone male syndrome
I was young when I left home
though I left it in my mind
a while before, the things you find
when you are standing in the sun
and thumbing a ride on highway one
a slow ride with an old musician
and he played his own rendition
of Satin Doll with a guitar
you don’t have to go too far
before you’re in another zone
without a woman, on your own
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS EXILE-RATED
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS SO ILL-FATED
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS CARBONATED
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS COMPLICATED
I met a woman from a foreign
country, I was feeling torn
it was a natural selection
with a built-in disconnection
so we took it across the ocean
with sometimes a greater notion
of a grand tour of the past
the Roman empire didn’t last
and we are washed up in the present
where we’re feeling some resentment
for the things that have been lost
the modern comes at such a cost
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS EXILE-RATED
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS SO ILL-FATED
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS CARBONATED
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS COMPLICATED
I was talking with an old man
and it made my blood run cold
like he is living with abandon
it is hard to keep your hand in
when the world you knew is gone
and everybody has a gun
it makes me want to hold onto
the trees and rocks, with much ado
about the ways that we communicate
while looking at the moon
because we’re floating in the void
it’s like the desert has a voice
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS EXILE-RATED
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS SO ILL-FATED
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS CARBONATED
I’M IN EXILE
MY LIFE IS COMPLICATED
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4. |
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DIRT FLOOR STUDIO OR BUST
The wind was stripping off the trees
the leaves were blowing across the road
my windshield wipers going fast
but then my comprehension slowed.
I was lost along the river
and the rain was coming down,
a black guitar was in the back,
I’m meeting someone out of town.
I drove around a fallen tree,
my phone is saying I arrived
according to a satellite,
it isn’t true, but I survived.
When you’re driving in the woods
and go off in the wrong direction,
caught between your intuition
and the natural selection.
Then I turn off on a dirt road
and I’m climbing up a hill
it feels like I am being tested,
born into the overkill.
I came upon an old log cabin,
isolated with a dog,
inside it a musician with
equipment and some dialogue.
My life is full of stormy weather
with the muses in confusion
and you lose it for a while,
a lot of hard work and illusion,
but you want to make a record
and the songs are taking form,
a missing chord, you look for a
recording studio in a storm.
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5. |
Hurricane Nicole
03:18
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HURRICANE NICOLE
She flew in off the Caribbean
going after human bein’s
knocking down the telephone poles
and threatening our very souls
and we are caught up in the ways
and means of Hurricane Nicole
She’s acting like a revolution
though she’s married to the ocean
and I never met a woman
who had so much spin control
but that is what you get when you
go out with Hurricane Nicole
IT’S ALL ABOUT THE WINDS OF CHANGE
AND IF THEY’RE LEAVING YOU DERANGED
OR BREAKING UP A LOVING HOME
THE WORRY IN OUR CHROMOSOMES
You think you have your feet on the ground
but she is like a merry go round
that took some methamphetamines
the woman’s fast, you know what I mean
a lot of men are feeling old
because of Hurricane Nicole
What goes around will come around
she said and I could hear the sound
of high winds blowing in my head
the woman blew me out of bed
a love affair can take its toll
especially with Hurricane Nicole
IT’S ALL ABOUT THE WINDS OF CHANGE
AND IF THEY’RE LEAVING YOU DERANGED
OR BREAKING UP A LOVING HOME
THE WORRY IN OUR CHROMOSOMES
[repeat first verse]
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6. |
Immune System Blues
02:58
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IMMUNE SYSTEM BLUES
My nervous system is immune
or so I like to think
my nervous system is immune
or so I like to think
but things are getting to me, and that
includes the kitchen sink.
I thought I had a way with words
but words are not a wall
I thought I had a way with words
but words are not a wall
a woman coming towards me and
the words aren’t there at all.
She said it looks like heaven and
I said somebody died
she said it looks like heaven and
I said somebody died
but in the final analysis
I think I’ll take her side.
THE PROBLEM WITH THE HUMAN RACE
EVERYONE IS NOT IMMUNE
I MEAN IT, BUT TOMORROW, I MAY
SING ANOTHER TUNE
YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW HIGH THE MOON
I HAVE TO SAY I’M NOT IMMUNE
I’M SYSTEMATIC, BUT TOMORROW
I MAY SING ANOTHER TUNE
You want to know how high the moon
and if you will survive
you want to know how high the moon
and if you will survive
the odds against it are approximately
nine to five.
Now and then you have a cold
and then you’re getting old
now and then you have a cold
and then you’re getting old
your life insurance doesn’t work,
and then your home is sold.
You want to fight the system but
it seems like it’s immune
you want to fight the system but
it seems like it’s immune
because it is too big to fail
it’s like another moon
THE PROBLEM WITH THE HUMAN RACE
EVERYONE IS NOT IMMUNE
I MEAN IT, BUT TOMORROW, I MAY
SING ANOTHER TUNE
YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW HIGH THE MOON
I HAVE TO SAY I’M NOT IMMUNE
I’M SYSTEMATIC, BUT TOMORROW
I MAY SING ANOTHER TUNE
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7. |
You Are Not a Stone
03:04
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YOU ARE NOT A STONE
You are not a stone
you’re made of skin and bone
and no one’s living long enough to go it alone
it’s hard to be connected
even with a phone
the universe is giving you a dial tone
you listen to the wind
and how the women moan
but maybe you would rather have a microphone
I’M LOOKING FOR ALLIANCES
THE CITY HAS AN AMBIENCE
PEOPLE TAKE THEIR CHANCES
I DON’T NEED AN AMBULANCE
you’re not well adjusted
as your life has shown
the government is taking out another loan
some people are mechanical
they turn into a drone
if you are independent you are on your own
and so you walk around
exploring the unknown
if there’s a mountain lion you should leave it alone
I’M LOOKING FOR ALLIANCES
THE CITY HAS AN AMBIENCE
SO THE PEOPLE TAKE THEIR CHANCES
I DON’T NEED AN AMBULANCE
YOU LIVE ALONE, IT’S NOT A LIE,
YOU LIVE A LIE, YOU’RE NOT ALONE
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8. |
Wolf River
03:29
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WOLF RIVER
The singer jumped into the river,
why I’ll never know,
he wasn’t drinking, it was night,
the current moving slow
but a boat was going by.
A wavelength pulled him under
while a roadie rescued his
guitar. It makes you wonder
about the fates, the roadie turned
around the singer gone,
the water washed away his voice,
he won’t be here again.
A “mystery” person, he inherited
the heart and throat
of his father who could sing
and never missed a note.
He wrote the songs I used to listen
to, they hit me close
to home in California, he was
taken by an overdose.
I should have known that music won’t
protect you from the facts
of life, in fact your guard is down
when you are too relaxed.
In this condition known as life
on earth the famous fall
as often as the rest of us,
there is a wailing wall
in every town and some of us
don’t want to stick around.
It isn’t easy but a singer
with his feet on the ground
would not be swept away. A few days
later he was found,
tangled in some branches and
he didn’t make a sound.
It makes you think, I’ll pour a drink
in honor of his story
and maybe it will insulate me
from the transitory.
(break)
There’s a young man in the river,
he went there with a song,
thinking it would float him like a
boat, but he was wrong.
A river has a permanence,
the singers come and go,
I thought I heard a song on the wind,
the song of a lost soul.
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9. |
The Survivalist
02:56
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THE SURVIVALIST
We would sit around the fire
throwing gunpowder on the flames,
he’d drink and smoke until he couldn’t
remember where he came from.
He grew up on the Missouri River
like a real survivalist,
he would shoot a deer and clean it
with a knife and leave the rest.
LEAVE THE RITALIN ALONE,
YOUR OWN ADRENALINE IS FINE.
NOW YOU HAVE A SHOTGUN FUNERAL
AND YOU’RE GONE AT 49.
He worked in the Sierra Club,
the ranchers thought he was subversive.
He was probably bisexual,
it made him apprehensive.
His father died before he should have,
radiation from the war.
He could take care of himself,
but he couldn’t find amor.
LEAVE THE RITALIN ALONE,
YOUR OWN ADRENALINE IS FINE.
NOW YOU HAVE A SHOTGUN FUNERAL
AND YOU’RE GONE AT 49.
A lonely man in North Dakota,
leaning on the alcohol.
He made a drum from river clay,
and late at night I’d get a call.
He never mentioned his addiction.
when the doctors had arrested
his supply, he went outside
and put a bullet in his chest.
LEAVE THE RITALIN ALONE,
YOUR OWN ADRENALINE IS FINE.
NOW YOU HAVE A SHOTGUN FUNERAL
AND YOU’RE GONE AT 49.
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10. |
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WHEN THE WIND IS AT MY BACK
There was an AC on the wall
a woman in the bed,
we’re kissing with an air-conditioned
breeze, and so I said
THE COUNTRY MAY BE OUT OF WHACK
MY LIFE IS BEATEN BLUE AND BLACK
BUT I AM NOT COMPLAINING WHEN
THE WIND IS AT MY BACK
I drove out to the desert and
I know it isn’t dead,
the windmills of the future on a
hill and so I said,
THE COUNTRY MAY BE OUT OF WHACK
MY LIFE IS BEATEN BLUE AND BLACK
BUT I AM NOT COMPLAINING WHEN
THE WIND IS AT MY BACK
I was sailing with a friend,
it’s dark and we were headed
for a port and couldn’t see
the shoreline, but he said
THE COUNTRY MAY BE OUT OF WHACK
MY LIFE IS BEATEN BLUE AND BLACK
BUT I AM NOT COMPLAINING WHEN
THE WIND IS AT MY BACK
The trees are moving back and forth,
and folks are full of dread,
a hurricane is coming and we’re
leaving town. I said,
THE COUNTRY MAY BE OUT OF WHACK
MY LIFE IS BEATEN BLUE AND BLACK
BUT I AM NOT COMPLAINING WHEN
THE WIND IS AT MY BACK
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Steven Gray Connecticut
Steven Gray lived in San Francisco since before there were computers and people would communicate by sending smoke signals
with their cigarettes. He’s a writer & musician whose recordings have been episodic. He read his work all over town for years, but using 2020 vision he moved to the coastline of Connecticut where he stares at the fire. His email:
telepoetic77@hotmail.com (don't use this site)
... more
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